Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

fact that the apparition never manifested unless Sommer was around. Not to mention the disembodied voice whispering Sommer’s name with such longing.
You can’t lie to him. It’s cruel. He’d see right through it anyway.
Dean almost smiled at that. He’d always been an expert liar, when he wanted to be. Sommer was the only person he’d not only never been able to fool, but never really wanted to.
Shutting the journal, Sommer set it aside and rested a warm palm on Dean’s cheek. “Dean. You’re starting to scare me here. Please tell me what you’re thinking.”
Dean drew a steadying breath. “Sommer, I think…I think maybe your parents didn’t go to Vermont.”
Sommer’s forehead creased. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is… Well…” Dean sighed. God, this was hard. “Sommer, don’t you think it’s possible that…well, that your mother died here?”
Sommer blanched. “No, I don’t. They went to Vermont. Mom’s diary said they were planning to.”
“She said they were thinking about it. There’s nothing that says they actually planned it.”
“How do you know?” Sommer spat, dropping his hand from Dean’s face. He shook Dean’s arm off his shoulders. “You haven’t read it.”
Dean forced back the surge of anger and hurt. Sommer was just lashing out, as anyone would do when confronted with something they didn’t want to hear. “No, I haven’t. I’m just going by what you said, which was that they were thinking of going to Vermont. Does the diary say if they actually made those plans?”
Sommer didn’t answer, but the way he flushed and looked at the floor said enough.
Turning sideways, Dean took one of Sommer’s hands in both of his. “I’m not saying this to hurt you, Sommer. It’s just that everything here points to it. This spirit only appeared after you arrived, and it’s only ever manifested when you’re in the room. And it opened that drawer, over and over again. It’s been trying to lead you there all this time.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. All it means is that the spirit, whoever it is, knew my mother would want me to find her journal, so I’d know what happened to her. That’s all.” Sommer shot a half-angry, half-pleading glance at Dean. “My mother had lots of friends, and not all of them are still alive. And she believed in life after death, and in ghosts. This spirit might even be a ghost she made friends with or something. Just because no one else ever saw it doesn’t mean it wasn’t here all along.”
Dean didn’t bother pointing out that entities inhabiting the twilight world between life and death didn’t— couldn’t —make friends with the living. Sommer was clearly in no state to hear it, and it didn’t make any difference anyway. “I’m not saying I’m definitely right. Maybe I’m totally off base. But I don’t think I am, and I can’t lie to you about that. It wouldn’t be right.”
Sommer tore his hand from Dean’s grip and bounded to his feet. “Shut up.”
Dean stared up at him in shock. “Sommer, I didn’t mean—”
“What, you think you have some sort of right to involve yourself in my personal business, just because we’re sleeping together?” Sommer laughed, and the sound was hard and cold enough to freeze Dean’s blood. “Just because you’re a decent fuck doesn’t give you the right to say anything about this. Just stay the fuck out of it.”
That hurt. Dean shut his eyes and curled around the ripping pain in his chest. When he thought he could move without falling apart, he opened his eyes, pushed to his feet and walked out of the room. He didn’t dare look at Sommer. If he had to see the contempt in Sommer’s eyes right then, he’d shatter.
He walked downstairs as fast as he could on shaking legs and went into Sommer’s room. It only took a few minutes to throw his things into his bag and pull on his sneakers. Hefting his bag onto his shoulder, he left the house and started walking down the long drive in the dusk.
What hurt worse than anything else was Sommer never once tried to stop him.
When he reached the main road, he set his bag on the ground, fished out his cell and dialed Kerry and Ron’s house. Ron picked up on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Ron? Hi, it’s Dean.”
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Um, I…I kind of need a ride. Could one of y’all come pick me up?” “Sure. I thought you were at Sommer’s, though.”
“I am. Well, I’m standing by the road. We—” Dean broke